Let Me Be Your Shelter
by lalala.broadway
Summary: In a world where people's soulmates are written on the backs of their hands, Blaine always dreamed his soulmate would be something like a fashion designer or a singer. He never dreamed his soulmate would be homeless.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** So this takes place in an AU (clearly) with soulmates. Klaine never met in Season 2.

* * *

On the back of everyone's right hand is a name.

The name, written in golden script and spindly handwriting, belongs to your soulmate.

By pure chance of fate, people eventually find the person that name belongs to: their one true love.

It wasn't unusual to find your soulmate at a young age.

Most people found their _one_, their only true love, between the ages of 16 and 23. Of course, there were those outliers that found their loves at 14 or 15, sometimes even as young as 10 or 11. Every once in a while, children would find their soulmates in elementary school, too young to understand their bond, but just old enough to know that they needed each other desperately. The youngest recorded meeting of two soulmates was just hours after their birth: two newborn babies, eyes locked on one another, who cried every time the doctors tried to take one of them out of the room.

Some people found their soulmates a little late. At 24, not having met your _one_ just meant you were a late bloomer. People would just pat you on the back and smile with a knowing look, telling you it was just a matter of time. At 27, you got consoling looks from happily mated couples. At 30, you got pitying ones. At 40, you could just as well assume some tragic accident had befallen your soulmate, and that would be the end of your search.

Blaine Anderson was turning 25.

It was the beginning of a slippery slope for so many people. Hope would fade, optimism and anticipation grow weaker and weaker, until it faded into despair.

His chances of meeting the _one_ were growing slimmer every year.

Having graduated from NYU with a Bachelors in music the year before, Blaine was the last of his friends to remain without a soulmate. Now, working in the music department of a high school and trying to get an internship at a record company, he doubted he had the time to go out meeting people.

But tonight, Blaine wasn't going to allow himself to think about any of that. Tonight, Blaine was going out with his friends and he was going to have fun.

He adjusted his silken bowtie a couple inches farther to the right. He hadn't gone out in a while. Summer had passed him by while he was filing sheet music at the school he worked at, and before he knew it, students were filling the halls and vacation was over.

Pulling a warm coat over one shoulder and then the next, he headed out the door and into the cold winter around him.

* * *

"Blaine, old buddy! Didn't think you left your cave anymore!" came Nick's call as soon as Blaine showed his face at Callbacks, the bar they were attending that night.

They were out celebrating tonight, as Wes, Blaine's friend from high school, was having an informal Finding party, as was custom when one found their soulmate.

A loud-mouthed girl named Rachel Berry had served Wes his coffee last Thursday afternoon between his morning and afternoon classes studying law at Columbia University. After inquiring whether there was a last name to go with Wes's coffee order, a loud squeal had pierced the air and Wes Montgomery had an armful of his soulmate, Rachel Berry.

Rachel, a senior at NYADA, had insisted that their Finding party be at the top hangout for her and her friends, better known as a bar named Callbacks. Wes agreed wholeheartedly to her plans between hanging on her every word dotingly.

Blaine and his friends had marveled at the fact that Rachel's name had indeed belonged to a girl louder and bossier than even Wes was.

So there they were, a handful of Wes's friends from high school (including Blaine) and a group of his law school buddies, surrounded by a small army of overzealous, overdramatic NYADA students, otherwise known as Rachel's friends.

Blaine headed over to the end of a long table where Wes sat, a huge smile on his face and an arm wrapped around his soulmate.

"Hey, man. Glad you could make it." Wes warmly greeted as he slung his free arm around Blaine, grinning all the while.

"Blaine Anderson," began Rachel, "I'm always honored to meet another of Wesley's friends. We're so happy you could attend our little gathering. I wanted to much to meet all of you Warbler boys, so it's great that so many of you could make it –"

"Of course he could make it," Jeff, another of Blaine's high school friends, interrupted from farther down the table. "He never has any plans, he just doesn't go anywhere!"

That garnered a chuckle from all around, but Blaine didn't mind. He'd known these boys since they were all two-stepping and singing songs in eight part harmony as a glee club, none of their teasing really hurt him.

Nevertheless, that did not stop Jeff's soulmate, Nick, from running a gentle hand up and down Jeff's arm, a silent request to lay-off.

Thad, whose soulmate hadn't come that night, didn't get as much of a warning.

"So that makes you the last man standing, right Blaine?" Thad joked drunkenly and more than a bit insensitively.

A lull of uncomfortable stillness set down upon the table.

Wes broke the tight silence with a hand clapped on Blaine's shoulder, acting every bit like the council leader he had been in high school. "We've waited together bravely, Blaine-y boy. We all know your man is on the way."

"Yeah, all this means is that you're next!" Jeff reassured with a cheerful smile.

No one mentioned the way Nick's arm tightened around Jeff's waist or the way Rachel burrowed a bit further into Wes's shoulder. They were all grateful to have their soulmate in their arms.

The fact of the matter was that Blaine was getting old.

No one wanted to say that probabilities of finding your soulmate cut in half every year after 23, but that didn't make it any less true.

* * *

Blaine's night had gone swimmingly, after the brief awkwardness surrounding his un-bonded status had passed.

The Warblers (or rather, those that remained in touch after moving to New York together) had all gone up at some point to take advantage of the karaoke stage provided at Callbacks.

Wes and Rachel, as they were the stars of the night, went up to make moon-eyes at each other as they sang a duet version of _Hopelessly Devoted to You_.

Nick went up and crooned out a clichéd but beautiful version of _At Last_ to Jeff, which everyone rolled their eyes at since Nick and Jeff had been the first to find each other of the group.

The boys joined together to sing _Uptown Girl_, a song that they let Wes lead that night, to Rachel, resulting in excessive squealing and quickly ending the party when Rachel wanted to head back to Wes's apartment.

Blaine headed out the door after many hugs and promises that the next Finding party the Warblers would be attending would be his own.

He had nodded noncommittally, not wanting to seem like a grouch.

Now, wrapping a scarf around his neck and pulling his coat tighter around himself against the chilly winter air, Blaine had never felt more alone. The party had been a complete reminder of the fact that he was the last, the _very_ last, to be lonely, and now quite possibly the only one who would spend the rest of his life lost, sad, alone and –

Alright, so the party hadn't gone swimmingly.

Blaine's heart ached as he endeavored to keep his tears squeezed within, not wanting to cry lest one of his friends see him on their way out.

His mind wandered back to the rendition of _Teenage Dream_ he had performed for his friends at the bar.

Unlike the song, he had no one to call his missing puzzle piece, and indeed, he was incomplete.

His apartment (his cold, lonely, soulmate-less apartment) was less than a mile away and in a good neighborhood, even considering that it was New York, so he decided to tough it out and walk home to save the few bucks on a cab.

About a block away from his home, Blaine allowed himself to relax his wary posture and give into the tiredness of the day. For someone who never went out for the night, a night full of karaoke and exhausting reminders of his single status was thoroughly draining, and he felt as if he could head straight to bed and collapse into soft sheets.

Despite this, something made him stop.

A sad figure, frozen under a thin layer of snow, lying still in a blanket on the side of the street.

It was a boy, not possibly older than Blaine, and clearly homeless from the state of his clothes and his unhealthily thin body. Impossibly pale skin tinged with blue from the cold, and dark brown hair that would almost certainly lighter if it was clean.

Though the homeless of New York were certainly in bad shape this time of year, this boy seemed worse by far, as most others found shelter under bridges or even on the sides of covered buildings. This boy lay on the street, seemingly too weak to even pull himself to cover.

Blaine felt tears prickle his eyes as he stopped in the street before the tragic sight. Was he already dead?

As Blaine neared the frozen figure, kneeling in the snow at the boy's side, he took in with heartbreaking appreciation that the boy was beautiful.

Snow sprinkled on long eyelashes, brown hair splayed upon sparkling white snow, and long slender fingers clutching at nothing but the whirling cold wind.

It was an inappropriate, terrible beauty to behold.

Blaine reached to feel the boy's pulse at the neck, but pulled back at the last second, feeling as if the motion was too intimate. Instead, he reached for the boy's wrist, hoping for a weak pulse. Even a weak heartbeat would be incentive to help this boy, perhaps take a cab to get him to the hospital, or take him home and call 911, or maybe even–

Blaine's thoughts stopped dead in their tracks.

Spelled out perfectly in spindly gold script on the back of this gorgeous, deliriously tragic, boy's hand was a name. That was normal. But this wasn't just any name.

_Blaine Anderson._

This boy was Kurt. This boy was frozen and in pain. This boy was probably homeless. This boy was obviously much more alone in this world than Blaine was.

This boy was _his._

* * *

**A/N:** Should I continue? I have ideas to turn this into a multi-chap, if anyone's interested in reading it.

Also, for anyone still reading my Anderbros/White Collar Crossover, I know its been a long time and I'm sorry, but expect an update soon!

Thanks for reading! Please review! :)

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**EDIT**: OH MY GOD. You guys are amazing! Thank you for the amazing response to this chapter! Every review, alert, and favorite has made me incredibly happy! I will absolutely be updating this fic, turning it into a multi-chap, for everyone interested. :D You guys are the best!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **OH MY GOD. You guys are literally the best! I am so honored by everyone's response to the first chapter. I love each and every single one of you that took the time to review, subscribe, and favorite.

* * *

Blaine had waited his whole life to find his soulmate.

He had waited patiently, watching his friends pair up, one by one, leaving him the last man standing alone.

He had been looking forever for Kurt.

And now, kneeling and shivering in ankle-deep snow, looking down at a boy completely frozen in ice, Blaine Anderson had _found him_.

Blaine wasn't sure the sound he made was completely human.

Some part of his brain registered that it had come from his own mouth, but most of his brain was too far gone to catch up and comprehend it.

Blaine felt his throat closing up with – what? Tears? He didn't feel tears. Were those tears on his cheeks? He felt himself losing control.

But he couldn't.

He couldn't break down now. Not with this beautiful creature – _his_ beautiful creature, _his_ soulmate, part of his brain supplied – wasting away in the snow.

So Blaine pulled himself together.

With a hand that was somehow shakier than before, he reached to feel Kurt's pulse at the neck. It seemed too intimate an action before, but now, nothing was too close. Now, there was nothing he wouldn't do to keep this boy safe, warm, and cherished. He had waited – oh, God, he had _waited_ – to find Kurt. And how cruel it would be lose him now, to have found him already dead –

But he wasn't dead. Kurt's pulse was weak, but warm and _there_.

Blaine's own breath shuddered through a thankful sigh, one hand tightening to support Kurt's neck. He was _alive_.

Out of mixture of strength and desperation he didn't know he possessed, Blaine choked on a sob and wrapped his arms around the boy other boy, gathering the cold form close to his chest. With Kurt's head nestled into the crook of his shoulder, cold nose turned into his chest, and arms supporting him from under the knees and lower back, Blaine stood and lifted Kurt's weakened form up.

They began home.

* * *

Blaine walked the last block to his apartment that night with the most precious bundle he had ever held in his arms.

He clutched his soulmate's still form as tightly as he could to his chest, ignoring the fact that the boy was taller than him and should have been awkward to hold. Of course, Kurt was also extremely thin and malnourished, so the weight was hardly a problem.

They trudged through the snow as quickly as Blaine could bring them there.

When they were facing opposite Blaine's front door, Blaine was glancing down at Kurt in his arms. Some careful shifting of Kurt's weight allowed him to dig into his pocket for his keys.

Pressing it into the lock and clicking it open, Blaine stepped into the front room of his apartment with his soulmate for the first time.

The first thing Blaine noticed was that it was too cold.

Hadn't he put the heat on before he left? It was freezing in here! Kurt couldn't be in a cold home, not now or ever – Blaine was going to make sure of that.

He carried the boy to his living room, where he deposited him with the utmost care onto a sofa.

Glancing down at Kurt's face, as if he expected him to be something other than gorgeous and frozen and still, he saw the eyes still closed and lips tinged blue.

That prompted Blaine back to his feet and to the thermostat, where he adjusted the heat as high as it would go. Then, heading to the kitchen, he buzzed around in search of anything that would help his soulmate.

* * *

"Nick?" Blaine began into the telephone hesitantly. "I know you're probably asleep, but I really need medical information right now and you're the only doctor I know that would pick up in the middle of the night. But, I mean you haven't picked up and I'm leaving a message. I know that's probably _because _it's the middle of the night so you're probably not actually awake, but I figured since I saw you, just about an hour ago, maybe you were still up, but –"

"Hello?" Nick's voice sleepily cut Blaine's off. He had answered after all.

Blaine let out a sigh of relief, happy to be stopped from rambling. "Nick, thank goodness."

"Blaine?" Nick drowsily responded. Blaine could hear the rustling of sheets as his friend awoke completely. "What's wrong? It's the middle of the night."

Blaine could picture Nick rising, pulling on a robe, and tucking Jeff in tightly behind him in bed, making sure his soulmate didn't wake up. There were so many times he would have been jealous of just that – of being able to sense their love and caring for each other just through the phone. He had always wanted a soulmate he could take care of.

Well, he had gotten his wish.

"Nick, I need your help. I'm freaking out and falling apart, and I'm pretty sure I'm in shock. I haven't stopped shaking for the past five minutes, that means I'm in shock, right? I just can't really control myself and I don't know what to–"

"Blaine! Stop, what are you talking about?" Nick cried, now quite confused.

Blaine took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I found him, Nick."

He could hear his friend's sudden intake of breath and feel him starting now completely awake. "You found who?" Nick asked in a near reverent tone, needing to confirm it.

"Kurt. I found Kurt."

Blaine smiled into the telephone despite everything.

"Oh my God, Blaine! Congratulations, man! I'm so happy for you!" Nick cried, "We all knew you'd find him. Wait, but why the heck are you calling to talk to me instead of – "

"Nick!" He cried, desperation returning, "He's… I found him on the street, just lying in the snow. I carried him home." Blaine faltered, allowing the conversation to dampen substantially.

"Oh." It took a moment for that to sink in, "Oh my God, Blaine! Is he hurt? What was he doing on the street?"

"He…I think he's homeless." Blaine murmured.

At Nick's small intake of breath, Blaine knew his friend felt his pain. No one wanted to meet their soulmate in such shape – no one wanted to find the one they loved hurt. Blaine powered through his friend's sympathy. He had no time for sympathy, at least at the moment. Now, his thoughts were only of Kurt.

"I think he has hypothermia. I need you to help me diagnose him, figure out how best to help him. I don't know how long he was lying in the snow when I found him – when I first saw him I thought he was de– "

Blaine cut himself off, finding that suddenly tears had gathered again in his eyes again somehow. Without his permission, his voice had clogged up with emotion.

"Blaine, it's okay. I need you to breathe." Nick commanded, suddenly in doctor mode. This is why Blaine had called him – this is what he needed. Besides a medical opinion for Kurt, Nick had the same calming effect on Blaine that he had had since high school. It was the same he had once used to calm down Warbler rehearsals, and now used on his patients.

"Breathe." Nick instructed, "Now, tell me what you've done for him so far."

Blaine took a deep breath. "Well, I turned up the heat in my apartment. I took off all his wet outer layers, and then covered him up with warm blankets. And I got a bowl of hot water and a washcloth from the kitchen - I've been using them to warm his torso." he explained anxiously. "Was that right? Is that okay?"

Nick smiled at his friend's earnestness. Blaine had known what to do. From being the frontman of their choir in high school to the responsible adult he'd become, he had always managed well in tough situations.

"Yes, Blaine. You did great." Nick reassured, "Do you have a thermometer around? Depending on how his body temperature is doing, I can tell you if he needs to go to the hospital now or not."

As it turned out, Blaine did have a small thermometer in a first aid kit he kept in his medicine cabinet.

"It's… 93.5 right now." Blaine read off the thermometer screen.

"So just above mild hypothermia." Nick concluded, "If it was a couple degrees lower, I'd insist he go to the hospital."

Blaine tensed in his position seated over Kurt, twiddling the thermometer between anxious fingers as he gazed down at the face he was already learning by heart. He'd take Kurt to the hospital if he truly needed to go, of course. Yet, part of him selfishly hoped Kurt wouldn't have to: in a hospital, doctors and nurses would fuss over Kurt and kick Blaine out as soon as visiting hours were over. He wanted to hover over the boy for all of eternity, so at the very least the rest of the evening.

But thankfully, Nick understood. "Monitor his temperature and call me if it starts to go down – even slightly. Keep doing what you're doing and I think he should be fine with you. Call and check in with me in three hours."

Nick could feel Blaine's thankfulness through the phone. "Yes. Got it. Thank you, Nick, thank you so much," he choked out.

"No need to thank me," Nick countered, smiling and finding himself glancing through the door to the bedroom where his own love lay slumbering deeply. "I really am happy for you, man. He's going to be fine. And he's going to love you."

Blaine, overcome with emotions, choked through a laugh and smiled down at Kurt.

"I hope so. I'm already falling in love with him," he murmured as he brushed some stray hair off Kurt's forehead. The boy would have gorgeous eyes, Blaine was already certain. Only truly gorgeous eyes would be fit to match such a gorgeous being.

Nick chuckled. "Well, don't forget to call me in three hours, lover-boy."

"No, I won't," Blaine answered absently, already lost in stroking the porcelain skin of Kurt's cheek. Nick smiled knowingly as he hung up the phone, taking a moment to smile, reminiscent of his own early mating before slipping back into bed with his own beloved soulmate.

Blaine sat awake at Kurt's side for a long while after his call with Nick. He would not – _could_ not fall asleep after such a day. He spent the time instead studying Kurt's face and warming his body with the washcloth and hot water. He spent the time cherishing the boy with all the love in his heart and promising silently to love him for all eternity. He would treasure this boy above all else: protect him from harm and chase away all his demons of days past. He would relish every moment with him and would stand with him for all of eternity.

But for now, he just had to wait for Kurt to wake up.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks again to everyone who took the time to favorite, follow, or review the story! I'm so honored by your support.

Also, sorry for the long wait for this chapter. I wasn't planning on making this a multi-chap, so I needed a while to plan out my story before I kept updating. Thanks for being such loyal and patient readers!

Every review I get makes me write faster, so please review!


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